A gnome and his Vampire's Revenge can never be separated (BG1)

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funny story Namuras, looking forward to the next episode! oh, and don't worry Gunthar...

 

(Of course it can't end there. It wouldn't make sense, and I have told you I'll write as long as you post.
On with the story then (this part may be quite poorly proofread as I'm very tired right now): )


Having gathered the items, Ceveren went to Nashkel.

He quickly learnt of the trouble with the mine, and recognised it as his call. That was what he must do. He must face the long dark of the Nashkel Mines.

Ceveren asked around in the town to learn more. In the tavern he came across a man he thought seemed nice, who apparently went by the name of Volo. “Another idiotic name,” he thought. “The Realms seems to be crawling with them.”

“Greetings fellow traveller,” Volo said when he caught sight of the gnome, “for I see by your garb that you do not call this place home. Sit with me awhile, and enjoy the atmosphere of this fine fair while we recent tales of lands far and far-seeming. I have wandered the width and breadth of Faerun, but yet have I to find such hospitality, as that of a simple country festival. It’s a shame that the festivities are marred by the events as of recent…”
That’s when Ceveren decided Volo was not nice at all, only long-winded and annoying. Several times he had tried to join this one-man conversation, but Volo just wouldn’t let him.
He left the tavern, making a mental note not to trust first impressions of people in the future.

He left for the mines next day. Before he had left the town he met a woman who asked him to look for her husband, Joseph, who would be recognisable by his greenstone ring. Ceveren accepted, thinking that he might just as well do some extra good, to somehow compensate for the death of the man he had to kill to get his new, charming cloak.
Yes, he did have a conscience. It was not big, but it was there.
And besides, he was going to the mines anyway, and the elf would probably have done it too.


Well in the mines, Ceveren was talking to a miner, when something small moved down the tunnel.
“What is this new devilry?” asked the miner.
“A kobold,” answered the gnome; to him it was plain enough. “A demon of the nether levels. This foe is beyond any of us, but especially me, because of my weapon.”
There was a dramatic pause.
“Run!”
And Ceveren ran. A dozen of kobolds, at least, were tailing him through the narrow tunnels, but were stupid enough not to follow as he descended to the level below.

Before stumbling upon any more kobolds, he stumbled upon a corpse with a greenstone ring on its finger. He picked it up, and placed it in his pocket.
“He is dead then,” he thought. “It is as I feared.”

Finally, after having survived traps and being chased by hordes of the irritating little monster, the gnome reached what just had to be the final chamber, where the Bad Guy of the mine was bound to live. There simply had to be a Bad Guy down here somewhere, causing all the trouble, or it just wouldn’t be right. Ceveren half expected to find a nasty, fiery, winged shadow-demon around the corner.
He didn’t.
He didn’t even find the Bad Guy.
He found an elf. It was a quite cool elf with a cool attitude, and he claimed to have an even cooler sword. But he was a wizard; an enchanter even, and everyone know enchanters are even wimpier than ordinary mages, so Ceveren told him to take his freedom and be gone.

Ceveren was a little disappointed, but also felt a good deal of relief, that, as he discovered when he entered the next room, the kobolds’ great boss was but a silly dim-witted half-orc priest. His name was Mulahey.
“Tazok must have dispatched you,” he said, “and my traitorous kobolds let you…” This dialogue is completely pointless, and anyone could figure out they’d come to blows sooner or later anyway, so the editor decided to skip directly to that part.
”…take anything! Minions, come forth and kill the intruder!”
Kobolds and skeletons appeared out of nowhere, but Ceveren had an ace up his sleeve.
“You mess with me, you mess with you!” he cried, and charmed the priest using the cloak.
He ordered his new ‘friend’ to slay all the minions, while he himself calmly searched through the chests by the wall.

At last, he commanded Mulahey to swing his mace as hard as he could at his own head.


(You can safely continue pondering who the mysterious man is. I never said you'd find out in this episode... )

 

what are you doing to us?!...must ..find ..out ...identity...of...mysterious...man
(btw nice episode)

[This message has been edited by Uytuun (edited May 18, 2002).]

 

I love this bit

 

I think we all agree: Namuras=master of words
/me admires him

 

Hehe... WHy do I have the feeling that this is destined to end into a drama. Is it a sologame or will you take npc's in your party?

 

(Headbanger you utterly silly person! Of course it’s a solo game, or there would be no challenge, would there?

/me admires anyone who admires me. )


Being incredibly content with himself, Ceveren was soon back in Nashkel. The townspeople welcomed him heartily, and even showed their gratitude by giving him a ‘small fortune by anyone’s standards’. He decided to spend some of it in the tavern, and the rest went directly to his Swiss bank account.

“…And useless following smelting, strangely afflicted by an odd, iron-weakening…” Volo sat facing the empty chair which Ceveren Suicidegnome left some days ago, still talking. The gnome himself, having no wish to get this man’s attention again, switched to plan B. That is, he turned right around and walked out of the door, and left for Beregost.
Before he could leave the town, however, he was stopped by a shady-looking hooded fellow.
“I am Death, come for thee,” the stranger said. “Surrender, and…”
There was a thudding sound.
“…thy pass… Ugh!”
Five arrow shafts were sticking out of his stomach and chest.
“Well, I know one thing for certain,” said one of the guards who had shot him. “At least your passage shall be quick enough.”
The hooded man cursed his own stupidity and then stared at his killers blankly for a moment, but soon decided that, under the circumstances, it was probably best to just lie down and die.

Beregost.
The town where nothing ever changes, and if it does, it’s always for the worse, like when they took old Firebead.
Today, on day 43 A.C., something had changed.
On the street before the smithy stood something red, and Ceveren very much suspected that it was a person and that he’d met him before.
Coming closer, his suspicions were confirmed.
“Definitely a change for the worse,” he thought.

The person in red was a man. His eyes were searching for something, or someone. When they caught sight of the gnome’s remarkably orange hair, the man took a few steps forward and addressed him.
“Ho there wanderer, stay thy course a moment to indulge an old man. Well now, our…”
“Memorised the script better this time?” interrupted Ceveren.
“Eh, pardon? This time? I… don’t believe we’ve met before.”
“Yes we have, between Candlekeep and the Friendly Arm Inn, remember?”
“What, oh that. No, no, no, that was Gandalf, my stand-in. I was ill that day, so I couldn’t come.”
Ceveren opened his mouth to say something, but he failed. Expressions of at least four or five completely different emotions tried to cross his face at once, but of course they utterly failed. The result looked so unspeakably silly, that those who saw it had a hard time trying to keep from falling to the ground laughing. In fact, that was incorrect; they didn’t even try.

“Ho ho, hum, hrrm, well, I have a few things to tell thee,” said the man once he’d regained most of his composure, struggling to get on his feet again. Against his habit, Ceveren was still around to listen.
“First, my name is Elminster. Second, and ‘tis hardly a surprise, I am sure: the bandits that thou dost seek make a habit of travelling in the northeast. With this, I shall take my leave.”
And he left, doing it quickly enough not to hear the gnome’s surprised exclamation.

“I seek bandits?!”


(Does Ceveren seek bandits, and in that case, why? Will he succeed? Will matters become less confused? Will the world ever stop mocking him? Stay tuned, and answers you shall get! Eventually. Maybe.

Edit: What did he ever do to deserve this ?

Edit again: That's too bad Nobleman. It works fine for me though.)



[This message has been edited by Namuras (edited June 05, 2002).]

 

I would like to see Tolkien expression on that

Namuras the link doesn't work on my puter

 

That night Ceveren dreamt again. He had a nightmare, even. He saw himself running among the trees, chased by a legion of cute little white, furry critters with long ears and oversized teeth. They wanted revenge, revenge for their brother (well not real brother, perhaps, but very likely some sort of relative) he had slain unjustly and eaten nigh a month and a half ago, and now they sought to take advantage of his complete lack of offensive capabilities.
A large root popped out of nowhere, and the gnome tumbled to the ground. The vicious bunnies were closing in fast: within a fraction of a moment they would be upon him.

Then he sat up.
His room in the Burning Wizard Inn was dark. He lay awake for awhile. Suddenly, the moon passed out of a cloud, and in its blue light a figure standing in a corner could be seen. Instinctively, he reached for his weapon. The figure realised what he was doing before he did.
“You will not need such arguments,” a male voice said. “And besides, it wouldn’t help you anyway; you should know that.” The figure grinned an unseen grin.
“Okay,” it continued. “Last time we spoke I said that you are meant to do something.”
“Yes?”
“It’s not finished yet.”
“But…”
“No ‘buts’. You’ve probably guessed already that I possess tons of useful knowledge, but for now, I will only tell you this in a disapproving voice that will linger in your ears, though it should have disappeared with the dream: You… WILL… Learn!“
Ceveren opened his eyes, only to be blinded by the morning sun.
“So I am looking for bandits after all,” he thought. “Well, if that’s what I must do, I’d better do it quickly.”

He spent the following days searching the woods northeast of Beregost, carefully avoiding all manner of rabbitry and other savage beasts. He knew it had only been a bad dream, but wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks.
After a week or so he had met countless bandits, but been forced to run from them all. This one, Raiken, was different: the moron actually spoke before letting the arrows fly. Ceveren fooled him easily.

He was shown to the bandits’ camp. A stupid-looking half-ogre approached, and he fooled him too.
Being able to move freely within the camp, he quickly sought out the biggest tent, obviously that of the leader, and entered. Overwhelmed by his cloak’s persuasive powers, it didn’t take long for those inside to kill themselves.

A prisoner, a hooded man in black named Ender Sai, stood beside a large harp.
“It’s time, then, is it?” he asked calmly, looking deep into Ceveren’s eyes. Before the gnome could reply, he added, “No, you’re not with him, are you, though. No, I’d smell his rancid breath on you if you were. But that must mean you’re seeking to put an end to the Sword Coast’s bandit infestation, no?”
Ceveren nodded vaguely.
“Know then,” he continued, “that the organisation known as the Iron Throne is behind them.”
“The Iron Throne. Where can I find them?”
“Tazok, that’s the ogre if you didn’t know, has been making regular visits to the Cloakwood so that’s where I’d start if I were you. But be careful! The quest stands on the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. So, um, now go step on some toes, alright?”

Ceveren was about to turn and leave, when Ender Sai held out his left palm to stop him and fumbled in a pocket with his right hand, producing a small object.
“Farewell, Funky-haired Gnome out of nowhere,” he said. “I give to you the light of Eärendil, my most beloved pa. May it be a light for you in dark places, when all other lights go out.”
“Hey thanks, but what is it?”
“A flashlight. Now go!”

 

excellent as usual

/me still admires Namuras (had to use it)

 

Great stuff, as usual, Namuras. Keep it up. Love the LotR references.

 

Hiyyah! I'm back! Not that it matters...
Sorry I haven't posted for so long, but I have been really busy. First avoiding the 'Net before AotC, then AotC, then finals...
Yes! The story! LOL, it's great, please DO continue it Namuras!

The mysterious man... well, I'd guess for a porte-parole or whatever this thing's called (I probably spell it wrong).

My favourite part: "Or you may want to try a Rem...". Riiight!

 

A few days later Ceveren could be found walking through the sizeable cluster of trees called by some the Cloakwood. It was a nice enough forest, if not for the myriads of spiders and ettercaps who tried to catch him in their nets and eat him, the hordes of brown and black bears and wolves who tried to shred him to pieces and eat him, the legions of dragon-like creatures who came from above and tried to tear him apart with their talons and eat him, the bloody elf who blocked his escape route over a bridge so the aforementioned hordes of bears and wolves almost got to eat him and the damnable druids who feared that his bright hair would set their forest on fire, and tried to kill him to prevent that from happening and at the same time give the beasts of the wood something to eat.
He felt much like a chicken that is just about to be impaled by a barbecue spit.
And he missed his bow.

At length he came to a place that was obviously Iron Throne-ish. He felt it in the waters. He felt it in the earth. He smelled it in the air. But most of all, he read it on the little sign that stood before the drawbridge:

Cloakwood Iron Mine
Property of Iron Throne Inc. – Authorised Personnel Only

Trespassers will be shot, stabbed, beheaded, hacked to pieces and jumped upon. Survivors will be prosecuted.

Please direct complaints or requests to enter the mine to Rieltar Anchev, 112056 Baldur’s Gate, and they will be ignored as soon as possible.

He silently thanked Ender Sai son of Eärendil for setting him on the right track. Well behind the wooden palisades he was confronted by yet another band of moronic mercenaries seeking his death.
“I hope it’s over soon; this is getting tedious,” he thought and sighed.
Gulping down a Potion of Invisibility, he conveniently sat back and watched as they were killed and eaten by the hordes of silvan beasts in his tow, which they apparently had failed to notice.
After a short while, the animals had finished their feast and returned to the woods. Ceveren cast a quick glance at the corpses, and found that a pair of boots of obvious style had been left intact. He put them on, and the next thing he did, to his own surprise, was to walk right into a wall.

It soon occurred to the gnome that his new boots had the curious ability of increasing the wearer’s speed dramatically. He was glad, for luck had smiled on him for once, but he wished it hadn’t caught him unprepared. He stroked his head, feeling a large bump grow under his hair.
“These things should come with warning labels,” he thought. With that, he sped into the mine and through it right down to its master, a wizard named Davaeorn.
“So the stoic adventurers have found their way down to my lair,” he said, and Ceveren believed that the man must be drunk: he certainly wasn’t more than one. “Now I’m supposed to give a pompous and completely pointless speech about how you’ll die horribly by my hand here, but that would just make me look like an utter idiot, so I won’t. I’ll still have to kill you though… Or perhaps not, you’re quite a nice fellow after all…” Ceveren smiled as the effect of his cloak began to work on the mage.

In that moment, two large ghostly knights appeared out of nowhere. They attacked the gnome, but he was already far away. They tried, unsuccessfully, to catch up with him, and when Davaeorn began to pelt them with all manner of cool spells they turned around and gave him an annoyed look, before resuming their gnome-hunting. After a while, they stopped. A strange repeating metallic thudding sound could be heard, but they didn’t care.
One of them sighed. “This gnome clearly isn’t worth all of this.”
“Indeed no,” the other answered, “elusive bastard, that. But that mage, he’s getting a bit irritating, don’t you think?”
“You tell me!” He turned around, and there was Davaeorn, clinging to his back and hammering his fist frantically at the knight’s helmet; the wizard had apparently run out of spells. “I’ve no idea what he hopes to achieve, but he sure knows how to annoy people.”
“I can kill him for you if you wish.”
“Sure.”
“Right.”

Having that out of the way, the two knights walked away for a cup of tea and left Davaeorn’s lifeless body on the cold floor.


(The tale is drawing nigh to some sort of end now, when everything shall, perhaps, be laid bare, so keep spamming!)

 

How could we not keep on spamming about Ceveren our beloved gnome?

Anyway another great chapter in the exciting life of a gnomish adventurer

 

/me ROTFLMAO
Keep it up Namuras!

 

OMG this is GREATkeep up the good work Nam.
Star wars forever

 

This is like hilarious. Keep up the good work, Namuras.

 

Whenever I read this, I cannot contain the eruption of laughter. This is very funny.

 

This is BRILL!

Keep posting more!
Keep posting more!
Keep posting more!
Keep posting more!
Keep posting more!
Keep posting more!
Keep posting more!
Keep posting more!

Wahoo! It is the best thing I've read that relates to BG! (Entertainment wise)

[This message has been edited by 8people (edited July 02, 2002).]

 

How could I resist spamming here, after all, this does count to my number of posts.

I loves it Namuras. This is the best (and only good) BG fan-fic I've read